


How To Take Care Of Your Medic

by Birdfluff



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7034425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdfluff/pseuds/Birdfluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saying the doctor was an early bird and a night owl was a bit much and it was something neither of his lovers noticed until their relationship started as well as some other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Take Care Of Your Medic

**Author's Note:**

> A thank you to TieDyeFlag for proofreading this! You the best <3

It was around one in the morning yet the field medic was still up and about, surviving on coffee and milling about his infirmary. Scout had no idea what exactly he was doing nor did he care. He just wanted the doctor to go to bed at a decent time. He nearly forgot that it was his turn to check on him this night and frantically woke himself up from his deep slumber to drink a can of Bonk! before jogging over to his infirmary. Sniper and Scout have been doing this for a week now, with the exception of a few days because the two at one time or another accidentally slept through the night. Squinting through the door's porthole, his eyes tried to adjust to the light and watched a blurry Medic round back to his paper filled desk.

The caffeine in him began to evaporate. He had to make this quick, and he had an excellent plan too. Wait. He unbuttoned his sleep shirt half way down. Perfect.

To make himself known, he opened the left door wider and leaned against it. “Yo, doc. What do you think you're doing up?”

The doctor continued his task without pausing to give the runner a reply. He let the silence hold for a few more moments to wait for Medic to finally look at him. He didn't. Dammit, doc.

The Bostonian sauntered over to stand across from the field medic. “Still working, huh? That shift ended an hours ago, pal. Time to check out.”

No answer again. The batter frowned. Medic wouldn't be able to ignore him for long. He finished the last three buttons of his shirt. He shrugged out if off and promptly dropped the wad of fabric on his desk. The runner stared at him for a response, but the German's gaze was focused solely on his glasses on the edge of his nose. Seriously?! What could be so interesting that he chose to ignore his own boyfriend? Least of all his good looking bod. Scout sighed loudly.

Curiously, he picked up one of the stray documents from his desk. The page was riddled with giant words and scientific phrases that seemed like gibberish to him. He flipped it upside down momentarily before Medic snatched it from his hands. The German gave him a cold glare over his eyeglasses, which resembled a middle school teacher to the runner, and finally answered him, “Talk to me again when you become a doctor and have to keep tabs on eight other idiots who continue to hurt themselves everyday.”

Well, shit. With his labored breaths and dark circles under his eyes, it gave Scout the impression that he would be tomorrow's lunch if he stepped a centimeter out of line. He laughed albeit somewhat nervously as his blood ran cold by his boyfriend's gaze. “Extra salty tonight, ain't ya, doc? C'mon, man. I know you're a workaholic, but you gotta sleep.”

Medic only hummed in response and resumed his task, stacking papers and looking them over. It seemed trivial to the batter. What was the purpose of so much paperwork for a medic? Were they orders? He knew he wasn't going to get an answer from the doctor himself other than 'it's not important'. It must be to him if he stays up every night to look over them.

Speaking of, he hasn't looked over him once. Scout knew his body was irresistible; he had to give him just one glance. The batter placed his hands on the top of the desk with a bit of force, hoping that would provoke some kind of reaction. The field medic's eyes rose slowly from his work and traveled up his person before landing on his face. That's better.

“You know that make up ain't gonna hide those dark circles forever. And you know, for a doctor, I thought you'd make healthier decisions than relying on coffee to stay up.”

“Ha, ha... Get your shirt off my desk.” He added blandly. An order that Scout rightfully ignored.

“Doc, why don't I _help_ you relax?” He put on his lopsided smile and arched his brows. He even shifted his posture slightly to show off his pecs better.

He watched Medic’s eyes flick from the runner’s chest back to his face before bluntly replying, “... Nein Danke.”

His body slacked, “C'mooon, man! You're really gonna do this?!”

“Ja...?”

“So you doubt me?”

“I never--”

“I'll put your ass so fast asleep you'll be calling me Nyquil.”

“Nyquil takes thirty to forty minutes to take effect.”

The Bostonian's bitter pout made it hard to keep a straight face. “Y-you're... you're so just... ARHH!” The runner grabbed at his hair.

“I appreciate your help bu--” He withheld a smile as Scout stomped around the desk to get up in his face. How childish. He noticed how the boy's eyelids drooped a little.

“No, doc, I'm freaking helping you. I'm--” His sentence was interrupted by a yawn he tried to conceal with his hand, “making sure your ass is sleeping in a bed when I'm done.”

“Of course, liebe. Unless it's me who's carrying your ass to bed.”

The batter glowered at him, “I ain't tired, man. I'm fucking rarin' to go.”

“It's midnight and your breath smells of that disgusting soda.”

“For once, could you stop being so critical?”

It has always been easy to get his lover off track. “For once, could you stop being so stubborn?”

“Make me, _Deutsch_ -bag.”

“Fine.” He picked out one of the top drawers of his desk and pulled out a syringe that caused the batter to backpedal into the surgery table.

“Hey hey! That ain't fair!”

“It's just a needle, Scout.”

“Yeah, and I want it the hell away from me.”

“That will only happen if you leave.”

Perhaps that a little too cynical, for the Bostonian's shoulders sagged, and he eyed at him with a disheartened countenance that pierced through his chest. He steadfastly ignored anything in his head that urged him to apologize. He had work. He didn't want to take care of an obnoxious boy right now.

Medic turned away from him and put the syringe back in its place as he pressed on with his paperwork. He kept his ear open for the sound of footsteps leaving his office, but, for the longest time, there wasn't a noise. Against his better judgement, he glanced back to see the batter sitting on the surgery table, arms crossed and feet tucked in. He glared at him through half lidded eyes and with a small pout.

“Why are you...?”

“Not leaving.” His voice was weaker than before.

He hurt the boy's feelings, didn't he?

“Of course,” Medic sighed, dropping the papers onto his desktop. He faced the runner and motioned him over. “Come here.”

The Bostonian dropped his legs down to the floor and took one step towards him.

“Closer. I won't hurt you. See?” He held his hands up to reveal nothing. That seemed to relieve the batter for he crept nearer until he was a foot away from him, glaring weakly into his eyes.

He astonished Scout by giving him a rare embrace. The batter was smaller in stature compared to him that his hands and arms practically enveloped his back. The runner eventually return the gesture and nestled his head into the field medic’s neck. His deep breaths tickled his skin. The Bostonian's body under his touch relaxed slowly by the passing moments.

“You smell good,” the boy muttered sleepily.

This briefly brought a smile to the doctor’s face, “And what do I smell like?”

“I don't know. Aftershave or something? Just smells nice.”

Medic shook his head slightly. Even when he craved sleep, Scout was still adorably impossible. They stood like this longer than the doctor was comfortable with, yet he couldn’t pull away. Something about this moment felt nice and soothing, he liked it. With the way their breaths and heartbeats synchronize, it urged him to rethink about staying up. No, _no_ , he had work to do. He wondered if Scout was even awake now.

“Scout?” He prodded, peeling himself away from the comforting warmth to meet the face of a exceedingly sleepy boyfriend.

“Nnnnno.. it's 'posed... 'upposed to be the other way 'round. I'm not tired. I'm not. Put me in coach, I swear I'll--”

“Hush, liebling.” Scout fell silent instantly at the sound his voice. “Komm.” Medic took his hand in his and led him over to the small connecting bedroom, hidden in the back of the infirmary. Just before the German was about to release his hand, the batter astounded Medic with a near death grip.

“I swear to god, doc, if you leave me in here just so you can work, I'll.. I... I won't let go until you're beside me... laying beside me. Get in the fucking bed.”

This was going to be a little more difficult if the Bostonian wasn't totally incoherent. “Can I at least get ready first? Change clothes?”

He shook his head, “That's a friggin’ trick and you know it is.”

Medic flinched, his eyes avoiding the boy’s.

“See? You can't lie that good when you're sleepy, doc.”

“... I guess I can't.”

“Doc,” he whined, holding the hem of his cardigan with his other hand. “please...?”

As much as he desired to sleep beside his lover, he told himself to choose otherwise. This was infringing on his former task. Medic sighed, “Alright. Fine. I promise you I will be back when I finish getting ready. Ok? Will you let go of my hand now?”

“I don't knoooow... what if you,” he stopped at the touch of the field medic's soft hand stroke along his hair. He leaned into it absentmindedly as his mind went blank. The doctor giggled mirthlessly and managed to slip out his once confined hand out from the runner's grasp.

“Get to bed, Süsser... I'll be there soon.” He wondered if this could work when the runner was fully awake. It would be a wonderful off switch for when he chose to ramble on about nothing.

Scout moaned softly when the German withdrew his hand from his head, but sleepily obeyed. The batter slipped into the covers of the large, unfamiliar bed that held the faintest fragrance of Pepto Bismol. When his head met the pillow, his body immediately turned off.

Medic puffed and left the bedroom, satisfied. Thankfully, that was easier than he thought, although his chest did pang as guilt popped into his mind. He'll get to bed soon, that was not a lie. Around three in the morning, he did stop and dragged himself back to his private bedroom. He felt too exhausted to go through his routine, so he merely pulled off his cardigan and dress shirt and his boots.

“...Where you goin’?”

Medic's heart skipped a beat. Schisse. Slowly, he looked over to his lover to find him still snoozing with one leg off the bed. So Scout talks in his sleep? He shouldn't have been so surprised, since the boy never shuts up. It was better than him snoring. The German carefully slunk into the bed. It has been a long time since he had to share a bed, even if it was with one of his partners. As long as Scout didn't kick in his sleep, everything should be alright. However, Medic couldn't help but eye at his unconscious company, who occasionally mumbled gibberish into the pillow. It was oddly endearing. Eventually, his eyelids failed to stay open.

When Scout woke up, he was alone. He scanned through his memory to not have any clear recollection of the night prior. He put his hands to his face as his cheeks flared up from embarrassment. It didn't work. His plan didn't work.

~~~

“Baaabe,” the batter huffed, letting his back hit the floor, “my sexy plan backfired in my face.”

“Somehow, I'm not surprised.” Sniper smiled briefly before feeling a foot pushing his back. He removed his gaze away from the scope to make eye contact with his lover behind him. “Mate, that's not helping my aim.”

“What's your plan? It has to be good enough to actually get doc to go to bed.”

“I'm still thinking about it.”

“Well think faster, you don't got all day.”

The Aussie rolled his eyes, deciding it was best not to argue with the boy, “Shouldn't you be out in the field? Everyone will think you're slacking.”

The batter sat up, “I don't slack!”

“Then leave me nest, mongrel.” The rifleman turned his attention back onto his task. He adjusted his kneeling position to follow the enemy Soldier's rocket jump before pulling the trigger... prematurely for the batter suddenly wrapped his arms around his middle. He missed. Bugger.

“Sniiiiippppesss.”

“Scoouuttieee,” the marksman mocked goodnaturedly, hiding his irritation.

This earned him another shove on his backside and he heard the floorboards creak under the runner's weight as Scout stood up. “You're a dick.”

“And you're a yobbo.”

“Shithead.” Here we go again.

“Bounce.”

“Fucker.” He's going to say it eventually.

“Wanker.”

“Will you just turn around already?” There it was.

The Aussie obeyed and removed his rifle from the window to stand in a better position to ready himself for what he knew would happen. Without delay, Scout's lips landed on his own. This became a ritual to them, whenever the batter paid him a visit during a round. Sniper assumed this was his version of a goodbye kiss, to playfully insult him and then force him around. The first time it was much more awkward and confusing for the recipient. The rifleman grew used to it though, since he never complained about the kisses during their work time. His mind did though; he argued with himself back and forth. It made them more vulnerable to attacks, sure, but it was getting more and more difficult to pull away from the runner’s touch.

“Asshole.”

“Galah.” He initiated the kiss this time, earning him a small moan from the batter. It last for a few more blissful seconds before the boy pulled away, grabbing his scattergun from the floor. For a moment, the Aussie felt a little rejuvenated from the kiss. He watched particularly at his backside as the Bostonian sauntered to the exit.

“Leavin' so soon?” He teased albeit rather dreamily.

With flushed cheeks, Scout glared at him as he backpedaled out the door. “Shut up.”

~~~

Sniper was going to be honest with himself. He had no idea how to get through to their lover about this dilemma. He was standing in front of the double doors to the doctor’s lab. As he looked through the small windows, he was momentarily blinded by the bright overhead lights. He observed the doctor at his desk trying to ignore his dove, Archimedes, who was desperate to gain his attention by hopping around and cooing loudly. Medic seemed to be talking to him now with a grimace, but it was muffled by the thick doors. After taking a breath, the Aussie opened the left side, “Doc?”

The field medic winced at the unexpected intruder. He cupped his bird into his hands. “Sniper, shouldn't you be in bed?”

“Could ask you the same question, mate.” He hesitated in stepping forward.

“I assume you're here to try to seduce me into getting to bed?” He asked blandly as he put Archimedes back into his cage with the rest his brothers. The hairs at the back of his head spiked in every direction. Sniper could only guess that one of his birds tried to make a nest out of his hair and he hasn't gotten the chance to comb it back into place.

The marksman blinked, processing the reply. “Crikey, is that what Scoutie tried to do?”

“He didn't tell you?”

“No...” He awkwardly changed the subject, “Doc, what if you get sick?”

The German exhaled loudly as he resumed his paperwork. “I've done this throughout my life, Sniper. I have yet to get sick.”

“That doesn't mean you won't, darl. This isn't healthy. Do you ever sleep?”

“Of course I do. Three hours at most.”

He looked up to see his partner's astounded expression that gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

“Medic, that's awful!”

“Sniper, bitte, I have work to do.”

“Have you not, you know, said that this is too much?”

“It's not.”

“It's infringing on your sleep. When have you ever had a full night's rest?”

The Aussie watched his lover's face grew more perplexed as he scanned through his mind. The rifleman sighed, “See? Now, why can't you see that?”

Medic merely shrugged, “I am used to it.”

“No, you're careless.” Cautiously, Sniper took another step closer, even though it might be impeding his safety. He had no idea how much he could push the doctor in his sleep deprived state. “You have no time management skills. Hell, you don't even have a clock in here!”

His eyes grew wide and his head shot up to glare at the marksman, who jumped back. “Yes, I do!”

“Then what time is it...?”

His anger vanished in place of embarrassment. His eyes darted around the room.“...Ach...”

The tension in his muscles relaxed slightly, “It's about midnight, mate. You should've called it a day hours ago.”

The German replied with silence.

Going in without a plan did not solve anything and he nearly got his head bitten off. Then again, he was never the best at confrontations. However, he knew someone who was. 

Finally after a prolonged silence, he left the infirmary without another word. As Medic watched him leave, the uneasy feeling in his belly grew, but he pushed it aside frantically. He had too many tasks to finish to worry about something so trivial in comparison.

~~~

Scout stumbled clumsily behind the marksman with a can of Bonk! in his hand, blinking hard to wake up. He yawned, “Okay, I'm kind of awake, what's the plan?”

“No idea. I just need backup.” The Aussie admitted shyly.

“Good start. Try taking your shirt off, that'll probably help.” The runner paused, recalling his past plan, “Well... maybe. It might work for you.”

Sniper rolled his eyes. “You sure it won't help _you_?”

“Fuck off.” The batter grumbled, taking another swig of Bonk!.

“You know, I probably should have let you sleep,” He teased with a smirk.

“Noooo, I'll be good.” His voice perked up a bit. “It's waking me up now. I should've gotten two though.”

“To stay up or just because you want more?”

“Why isn't both an option?”

The rifleman flicked his ear and opened the left door to the infirmary to see the doctor exactly where he left him.

“Alright, doc, this is an intervention.”

The field medic's head jerked up, surprised and confused. “You cannot be serious? I thought you gave up.”

“Do ya really think we'd let you get away with this?” the runner stepped forward, pointing his empty soda can at him, accusingly, “You're lookin' at us here, except I'm the sexier one... Don't you roll your eyes! My plan would've worked if I... if my handsome eyelids were freaking tired. And! And another thing! I-”

“Alright, Roo, that's enough.” Sniper patted the batter’s head.

“No, I had a good idea. I can talk him to sleep. My soothing sexy voice does wonders, man!”

“I'm sure it does if it doesn't put you to sleep first.”

Scout scoffed at his words, “As if.”

“Please, let's just get this over with.” Medic rounded his desk and let his weight lean against it. “Although, may I ask, if I keep this up will you two ruin your sleeping schedules just for me?”

“Yes.” The two replied simultaneously.

They were puzzled to see how taken aback the doctor was, with his open mouth and knitted eyebrows. Sniper didn't know what to think of that, so he put it aside for later. Hopefully, he could prod out an answer from him in the morning during his walk... Walk. The Aussie perked up.

“... I got an idea.” He stepped towards the field medic and extended his hand out.

The German's eyes flickered back and forth between his face and his hand. “Was?”

“You're getting away from your lab just for a few minutes.”

Medic puffed. Why was this so important to them? It felt completely normal to him. Why couldn't they understand that? Every part of his body told him to slap his hand away, yet he complied. He'll humor them, just for a bit.  
Wow, the marksman's hands were more callus compared to his own and... they felt really nice.

His heart pulsed faster by the genuine hopeful smile on the Aussie's face. “Thank you, darl.”

Sniper pulled him along and out the doors. Temporarily, Scout stood there confused before jogging to catch up.

“What are we doin’?” He asked when he caught up and walked on the other side of the doctor.

“That is also my question.” Medic added.

“You'll see, you two.”

On occasion as they traversed through the halls of the base, Scout craned his neck back to see that his lovers were still holding hands. This led him to wonder how Medic’s hands felt, which for him, was a weird thought to have. If they were holding hands, should he also try? The only man hands he has ever held were his brothers as they crossed the street when he was a kid but they didn't count, since it wasn't in a romantic sense. If he was going to do it, he had to be cool about it, until the doctor said something. From there he didn't have a plan other than ad libbing.

While his gaze was planted firmly ahead of them, he searched for Medic's hand. It wasn't smooth as he would have liked, but he found it and gave it a small squeeze. Wait, he wasn't wearing his gloves right now... and his hand felt so freaking soft, damn. Out of his peripheral, he could see his head turn. Quickly, he tried to keep his thoughts away from his hands or Medic in general by intently examining the can of Bonk! he forgot to throw away.

That was until he felt Medic return the squeeze and rub his thumb against the batter’s hand. A shiver coursed throughout his body and he desperately tried to cover his face with his free hand with his eyes shut tight. He couldn't stop his immature mind from hopping from thought after thought about how nice his hands would feel on his face, his neck, maybe his chest... or his stomach. No, no! Don't imagine it! Fuck, his face felt so warm like it was inches away from a campfire.

“Are you alright, Scout? You're squeezing a little tight.”

The Bostonian quickly eased on his grip as he replied through gritted teeth, “I'm freaking awesome man, never better.”

The marksman smiled with a quirked up brow, “You a hand holding virgin, luv?”

“I need you to shut the fuck up right now.”

Sniper's giggling stopped short, when he noticed that the doctor didn't share in the laughter like he normally would. Concern ate at his heart. He simply hoped it was the German's sleep deprivation, even though that was worrisome enough. No. Now that he thought about it, Medic hasn't laughed much since the start of their relationship. Something was wrong. One problem at a time, he reminded himself, we'll focus on that later. Sniper halted as they reached the door to the back side of the base.

“Here we are.” The Aussie released the field medic's hand and pushed the door open for his lovers. He looked back to be greeted by a cold frown from Medic.

“We are not going outside.”

“Why not? It's nice out. 'nd it's dark too, no one is gonna see us, mate.”

The German scowled at him with a scrunched up nose.

Sniper adjusted his weight on the door, “Can you trust me, doc?”

Scout was confused at the doctor's reactions tonight as if these were totally unfamiliar to him. Has he never dated or even shown him public affection? No, that was too far, they have kissed plenty of times, even though they were short . The batter racked his brain around to figure the field medic out. The man had too many mood swings to keep up with.

“I...”

Meanwhile the Aussie gazed at their lover, quizzically. Did he word it incorrectly? The doctor's mind felt to be a riddled with puzzles he couldn't solve. It was possible he was just tired, yet something told him that that wasn't the case. He kept jumping to that same conclusion; it couldn't be right. Not everything linked to the fact that he's exhausted, right? He couldn't be exhausted of them... right? No, that was a terrible thought. He waved that aside.

Finally, Medic took a breath, “I trust you.”

Sniper smiled tenderly, as he watched the German pass through the door frame along with Scout. “Thank you, darl.”

The doctor only responded with a hum and then reached his free hand out for Sniper to take again. The rifleman obeyed gladly and took the lead once more. The silence was interestingly reassuring to the mercenaries, that and the gentle warm breeze was comforting as well. It was hard to find these kinds of moments during a war zone, or even out of a battle for that matter. However, the quiet did not last long.

“Why are we taking a walk again?” The Bostonian questioned, sleepily.

“Well,” Sniper cleared his throat abashedly, “I usually see doc around here in the morning, so, I thought it would help? Besides, it--”

This brought light to the batter's eyes as well as a grin that took up most of his face. He shook the German's arm slightly, “Doc, you took my advice?”

Medic stuttered slightly, “Well... ja, at times.”

“Does it help??”

“It does,” he replied with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Smiling, the marksman continued, “Besides it feels nice, for desert weather and it's really pretty tonight, don't you think?”

The doctor's gaze drifted into the sky. There were a few clouds here and there but mostly clear and bright. The moon waning into a crescent shape as well as twinkling stars could easily be seen, since their base sat in the middle of nowhere. The German softly spoke, “You certainly do have a point.”

Satisfied, the rifleman replied with a short affirmative noise before looking over at the batter. Amazingly enough, the runner refused to say a word as he gawked at the upper atmosphere. His eyes darted about as if trying to grasp the whole sky itself.

That was adorable. Sniper chuckled to himself, “Don't get views like this in Boston, eh?”

“Man, this doesn't even come close...”

Their walk was somewhat quiet with Scout's insignificant announcements that temporarily broke the mood, until he finally realized he should be silent. After that, a comfortable, peaceful stillness laid between the three.

This chipped away at the wall Medic had built up within his mind and it was becoming mildly troublesome that he couldn't replace the bricks like he normally could. Too many feelings would interfere with everything. What if he became too careless? The thought of this relationship possibly being a mistake had crossed through his mind too many times but as months passed it became less frequent.

Of course, he loved them, that had to be the correct word for it. However, he had to be professional. He couldn't let a relationship disrupt that. Yet, why are these trivial things continuing to knock down that wall brick by brick? They were endearing, yes. These two men were going out of their way for him to get into better sleeping habits that they only noticed a week ago, because he made the mistake of letting it slip during breakfast.

He was enjoying their company, he wholeheartedly admitted. This was a wonderful experience, that it finally clicked in his brain. He did not deserve them. They have always been so sweet and undoubtedly respectful, yes, including Scout, which he was vividly pleased of him for. They have grown as their relationship blossomed but has he? Medic didn't know. He was too sleepy to think more on it. He yawned widely as his eyes begged to close.

~~~

“Well, we've walked around the base,” Medic said between yawns. He needed coffee fast. “Will you leave me in peace now?”

“Nah, you're too tired to work now.” Sniper explained with a cheeky grin.

The astonishment on both of his lover's faces tickled him greatly. However, the doctor's turned into anger rather quickly, “You... you. Ach....”

Meanwhile, the batter playfully punched his shoulder, sharing the rifleman’s grin, “Snipes, you sneaky bastard.”

“You set me up.” The German growled, arms crossed.

“Now, you have ta sleep.” Sniper said triumphantly, “And we're making sure you will.”

Medic scoffed lightly, “Oh? Do you plan on sleeping with me?”

Instantaneously, the atmosphere became stiff and uncomfortably warm even though the comment was meant to be a teasing jab.

Scout fingers fiddled with each other as he chewed at his lower lip. Frantically, he tried to lighten the mood, “H-hey, what's the problem with that? It's not like, we're... you know, it's just... sleeping. It's not that weird, right? It'll be like, a, uh, sleep over, I guess? Nothing like, you know, weird is gonna happen... ain't that right?”

“Sleep over... yeah, sure.” Sniper finally responded with a gulp. “That sounds about right.”

“Uh, ja, mmhm...”

“So, you agree?” The Ausse inquired swiftly, “If that's the case then we should get to your bed now.”

The field medic's glare tore at his body. He looked ready to pick him up and throw him down a cliff.

“Fess...” He threw his hands up. “You know what? Fine. Why not?” The doctor pushed the door open with his weight and pointed at the opened bedroom door at the opposite side of the room. “Get in there. Both of you.”

Hurriedly, the two scuffled into the infirmary before Medic abruptly closed the door and locked the metallic entrance tight. They followed him into his private chambers.

His gaze held firmly and gestured over to his bed. “You two will stay there and wait until I am done with my routine. Understand?”

“Yes, doc.”

“Gut. Bewegung.”

Assuming that word translated to 'get a move on now before I stab you', they sat on the bed. The doctor mumbled in his native tongue angrily as he began disrobing himself.

Dummkopfs, both of them, they could be so annoying. He couldn't believe he let himself be duped in that fashion. He should have had more coffee. He shrugged his unbuttoned shirt off of his person and folded it up nicely.

“Uhh, doc?” the Bostonian said awkwardly.

“Yes, Scout?” He placed the folded robe on the dresser.

“You... do know we're here right?”

“Yes?”

This dumbfounded the batter. “...You're, uh, okay with stripping down...? In front of us?”

“I have no qualms with it, no.” He undid his belt.

The runner shifted uncomfortably then glanced over at the rifleman, who hasn't spoken once since they sat down. “Snipes?”

“I don't know what you're complaining about.”

This got the doctor's attention. He nearly gave himself whiplash as he looked over at the marksman whose eyes quickly shot up to meet his. “... Was?”

“You just look good is all.”

He didn't respond. Medic swiftly gathered up his pajamas and strut into the small bathroom and closed the door.

“Good job.” Scout patted him on the back.

“Did I say it wrong?”

“Nope. I don't know what's going on with him.”

“... Wish he'd say.”

“Yeah.” The Bostonian gazed around the field medic's private quarters. Now that he was somewhat awake he could see what exactly was all in this room. There was a long bookshelf by the door, packed filled with books of various sizes. The boy didn't recognize any of the authors. Across from the door was the rather fancy oak dresser, now that he looked at it, it had engravings and all sorts of interesting swirling patterns. Beside the bed was a small end table with a weird shaped lamp set on it. Scout assumed it must be a European thing to have strangely constructed objects or intricately designed furniture. Wait, there wasn't a clock in here either. Did the doc not believe in time?

Scout didn't notice the bathroom door in front of the bed until Medic disappeared behind it. The batter felt a little envious. Why did the doc get his own bathroom while everyone else had to share one?

“Doc's got a nice place.” Sniper interrupted his thoughts.

“Yea, I was thinking the same thing... I want a private bathroom.”

The Aussie snickered and ruffled the batter's hair. “Guess that is a little unfair, huh?”

It wasn't long until the doctor revealed himself in his pajamas... were those silk? Did he always have those? The next noticeable thing was that he didn't have his glasses on. He looked strange, more human.

The German crossed his arms. “Okay, how is this going to work?”

They stared blankly at him.

“The sleeping, dummkopfs.”

Oh. Hesitantly, the marksman replied, “You could be in the middle? Are you okay with that?”

“... Sure.” Medic huffed. He judged the bed. Yes, it would fit the three of them, Scout was definitely small enough. He turned off the ceiling light and switched the fan on, creating a quiet humming sound. He crawled into the bed from the left side as the Aussie took his right and the Bostonian took his left. “Now what is this plan of you two making sure I'll sleep tonight?”

“... Waitin’?” Scout suggested awkwardly. He glared at the doctor's unimpressed expression. “It's almost two in the morning, doc, give us a break. We'll leave when you go to sleep.”

The field medic rolled his eyes. “You have a point. Alright. Whatever, I am too tired to argue right now. Goodnight.”

“G'night.”

“Night, doc.”

~~~

This was too odd for Medic to let sink in. Sure, he has slept with another body before, an alive one in any case. Before, he thought nothing of it, now he felt trapped between two bodies. He had no idea how much time has passed, nor did he know if his two lovers were already asleep. His eyes held firmly shut, for once, desperate for sleep. However, nothing happened. He laid there consciously waiting for sleep to take over as he tossed and turned but it never did.

“You alright, doc? It's been a while.” Scout asked with sleepy curiosity, poking at Medic’s back.

“Forgive me, I can't seem to sleep.”

“'M gonna piss...” Sniper leisurely hoisted himself out of the bed and out of the room. He must have forgotten about the bathroom nearby in his tired state.

Scout followed his lead. “I need to stretch, I'm getting too exhausted.”

“Then you _should_ sleep. I don't understand either of your intentions.” Medic couldn't help himself to watch intently at his shirt clinging to his body as the batter twisted and turned his back. He extended his arms above his head to have his shirt reveal his semi muscular freckled belly.

“You don't get it that we care about you, doc? C'mon, man, seriously? I don't mean to sound like, offended, but I'm surprised you're this dense.” He bent down to his toes, momentarily distracting the field medic at his trousers.

“That is because I still do not think I deserve any of this,” Medic muttered in his tongue, dejectedly.

“Was that German, doc?”

“No, it was Yiddish.” The doctor smirked briefly, mocking the batter's limited intelligence of his culture.

“Haha, very funny.” He grunted as he pulled back up. “What'd you say then?”

“I am just not used to this, Scout. I think you're forgetting we all have work along with trying to figure out this relationship between the three of us.”

The runner's face became oddly stoic, “...Yeah, I guess you're right. But you know, you don't have to be so serious all the time. What happened to that silly side of yours?”

The doctor shot up. “Silly?? I was not... _silly_. I was merely—”

“Oh shut up, you were silly. That's what I really liked about you. What happened to that?”

“I...I—?” He composed himself with a deep breath. He hoped his sleep deprivation made him mishear that. Scout honestly liked that? “A relationship like this requires a lot of responsibility and—”

“That doesn't mean you can't be yourself, doc. What's fun in a relationship if you're Mister Serious all the time? I mean, sure, we gotta keep it a secret, but I think that's been going pretty well. Don't know if you've noticed, doc, but I'm pretty serious about this working out for us. And if you can't be you then something's wrong and we have to fix it.”

The Bostonian folded his arms, frowning at the doctor's silence. He looked over at the German, who stared at him with wide eyes. “What's up?”

“I'm... just wondering what happened to Scout I know.” And definitely not thinking of his sound advice. They would have to fix this relationship in a way to help him feel... more of himself? What was he supposed to say to that? He caught himself denying it.

“Oi, I'm still me, pal! I just know WHEN to be serious.”

“Of course... but why?”

The Bostonian stared at him in puzzlement, “What do you mean 'why'? This whole relationship is, you know, based on a... you know.”

He was clearly uncomfortable by the way he was fidgeting where he stood. Medic wanted to push that. How far was this hyper masculine man willing to go for a relationship like this? “Elaborate.”

“My... I... dammit I can't say it. Hold on, give me a sec.” Scout began pacing around the room. Surprisingly, he was actually whispering to himself, which Medic prior thought was unheard of. The only thing he could distinguish out of his mumbling was the abundance of 'no's. Eventually, the runner whirled around to face the field medic. “Ok. You ready?”

Are you? He wanted to say. The batter looked like he was ready to bolt out of the room until he took a breath. He gazed sternly down at the doctor. “My existence, like... likes you.”

Medic only stared at him, making him fidget more.

“M-my, you know, doc, my being. My, my, my, person! Me. And by liking you I meant by, you know, not the general liking. You know when you really like something? Like, freaking, I don't know, like your birds. You like your birds, right? So--”

Whether or not he couldn't say it for prideful reasons or that he... no, Scout never had a good handle on his feelings. This was possibly the best he could do to project his emotions out publicly. It was... oddly endearing. “You love me?”

He paused in his rambling to swallow. He shrugged. “That's another way you could put that and... yeah. I... I really do. We both do. I'm just saying it for the both of us cause, you know h-”

“That's enough.” The German said quickly. “... Thank you. It-” he hesitated momentarily before speaking albeit slowly, “It definitely has been a long time since I've heard a... rephrasing of those words.”

“... Yeah?” his heart galloped inside his chest. “Guess we gotta say it more often then, huh?”

Medic's face felt hot. “Nein! I mean, no, no. That is completely _not_ necessary.” He glared at the runner's forming grin, “Scout. I want you to stop whatever is formulating it that head of yours.”

“Oh, it's nothing. Nothin' at all to worry about.” The boy edged towards the door, opening it slowly. “Be right back.”

“Scout!” Medic called after him. He could catch him easily. He has done it before, but something stopped him. 

_And if you can't be you then something's wrong and we have to fix it._

~~~

“Scout, I'm not sure about this.” Sniper mumbled as he let himself be dragged by the ecstatic batter.

“Oh, come on, you just gotta whisper sweet nothings to him man and you'll be--”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on,” He pulled him back by his arm to stop their walk. “Scout. Do you even know what that means?”

“What? Sweet nothings? I mean, it's just compliments right? Saying how much you like each other?”

“... Well, you're not wrong. It's... sort of, I think, equivalent to sexy talk.”

The Bostonian fell silent for a few seconds, “I mean, if he want to--”

The Aussie swatted his head and hissed, “Scout, we're too early in a relationship for that..!”

“I'm just sayin' that I'm game if he is!”

Rolling his eyes, the rifleman exhaled, “You don't even know how gay sex works.”

“Do you?”

“...Yes.”

His stare broke from disbelief, “... Really??”

The marksman scowled at him, “Is that hard to believe?”

“I mean... sort of? I don't know your life, man.”

This kid was going to be the end of him one day, he just knew it. “Bloody hell, I... Let's just move on. How is... your plan, going to work?”

Scout motioned him to keep walking, “I thought it might give him some, like, comfort, you know? He's always doing something for the team and barely gets a thank you. I thought it could help him feel more, I don't know... maybe just feel better about everything? Maybe, it'll help him, like, inspire him to get his work down faster and get to bed. Look, I'm not completely sure if that'll even work, but it's worth a try, right?”

Sniper was taken aback at his words. The Aussie noticed this as well, of course, it was hard not to. Medic seemed to have strangely closed off when their relationship began. He had no idea how to go about making him feel more appreciated while keeping their relationship under the radar. He never went to Scout about this because he doubted his observation skills. He felt something in his chest blossom to hear the exact opposite.

However he doubted himself. He swallowed, “You're better with words than me, darl. I'll just--”

“Oh no, you don't! You're helping too.” Scout rolled his eyes at his stunned countenance and nudged his shoulder with his fist. “C'mon man, you can't chicken out like that. You keep telling me I've gotta play my part, and I have been. You've seen me. You need to do the same.” He poked the side of Sniper’s face to emphasize his point.

“You-you have and I'm proud of you for that but...” It was hard for him to push past the batter's growing adorable lopsided smile. He had to be so cute at times at the wrong possible moments that it made it difficult for the marksman to think. “'M not good with words, mate.”

Scout rubbed the back of his neck, subconsciously. “Just... I don't know, say how you feel. You're... better at that than I am.”

His heart leapt to his throat. Did... he honestly say that with sincerity? Scout was full of surprises tonight.

“What are you smiling for?” The batter glowered at him with that famous pout and folded arms.

“Nothing.” He'd have to show his appreciation later.

“Yeah, I'm sure. Are we doin' this or not?” His arms limply fell at his sides.

“Yah, mate, we're doing it.” He awkwardly grabbed ahold of his hand to lead him back to the infirmary, trying to keep his mind off how flustered and flushed the batter's face became and how often he would love to see that expression. Even if that moment was short lived, Sniper strained to hear the runner's soft mumbling as he tried to compose himself.

“...ust handholding, you don't gotta get all hot under the collar about that...”

Ok, now he just wanted to kiss him.

Once they entered the doctor's private bedroom, they were met with Medic's glare and crossed arms, if anything he looked like a stern parent about to scold his child for wetting the bed.

“You better not do what I think you're going to do.”

“Probably not. Lie down, luv.”

Hesitantly, the German obeyed, taking up the middle of the mattress while the Aussie took his right and the Bostonian on his left. “I'm afraid to ask what this plan entails.”

The runner took the opportunity to respond, “Don't be, man, c'mon. We're not that terrible. We'll leave as soon as you're asleep. Close your eyes... and don't talk.”

“Don't... talk?”

“You're supposed to be fallin' asleep. So no talking.”

“I... okay?” With a sigh, he did as the boy commanded.

It finally dawned on the batter how hard this was going to be for them. Fuck, he didn't think this through. The runner swallowed, biting his lip. Where was he supposed to start? He was so used to talking about himself. Sure, he can talk about other people, but that somehow proved to be more difficult. His mind was flat lining on him.

“I'm waiting.”

“What did I just say about no talking?” Scout snapped back. He scratched his at his neck as he thought of something to help him feel more appreciated. He traced his memory prior, he wondered how self conscious the medic was about his work or himself. He wondered if he was doubtful about their relationship, which he sincerely hoped not. They made a pact to say anything like that immediately after rationalization. Does he just not like being vulnerable? That clicked with so much force, Scout had to stop himself from ripping himself out of the bed. Wait, there was no way, other than getting out of the bed, to tell Sniper about this. Hopefully, he was smart enough to catch on and come out of his shell to contribute.

Tepidly, he took hold of the doctor's hand and took a silent deep breath. “Ok, doc, I just need you to listen, ok? That's all you gotta do.”

He replied by gently squeezing his hand.

“Good. Okay. So...” Christ, he was not good at this. “Look, I'm... I've got no idea what you've been through and... but we're here with you so, uh.” Fuck, he felt like he was getting somewhere with that. “Everyone's got problems, including me, hard to believe I know, but I... I had a hard time with a lot of things growing up. Eight other older brothers'll do that to you. I felt like a runt for most of my life. I felt vulnerable, unappreciated.” He noticed Medic's face twitch. That urged him to press on. “I had my ma though, she helped me through a lot. And friends, I had some good pals too when I was a kid. Helped me be who I am now. That and I think I learned a lot just by working here, you know? I got you two here with me and I feel a lot happier than I was on the first day, you know... because of this. Learning how to, you know, actually be in a relationship, and doing all this talking that I'm not all that good with, but I'm trying. I think I'm getting sort of better at it. This is... not even close to a relationship I've been part of.”

Scout fell silent as his mind drift out through a plain of memories. The doubt, the flirting to be received by the dense recipient, the awkward stages, and the continued awkward sections of what was okay to say. It's been a ride. “I don't think I regret this though. Not by a long shot.”

The batter glanced over at the field medic, whose expression became unreadable. Was he sleeping? His breathing seemed to be deeper than before.

Sniper gazed unblinking at the ceiling as he took the runner's words in. His face felt uncomfortably warm. Scout had taken some huge steps here, it relatively amazed him to realize how far he has come. How this one relationship helped him grow so much, except he continued to flirt with any female stranger. Neither of them exactly cared about that, since it was clear where his loyalties lied. Wait, he should be thinking of what to say and not gushing over his boyfriend.

He thought deeply back in Alice Springs, his father—that made him cringe—his childhood, his teenage years. There wasn't a time that he didn't feel vulnerable and unappreciated. He had no idea what exactly he was comfortable with admitting. When Scout lifted his head up a little to view the Aussie better, he winced. He needed to talk _now_.

He kept his eyes trained on the ceiling. Just talk, don't focus on anything else, just talk. “I...I guess you could say I didn't have the greatest childhood. Didn't exactly have the greatest dad either. I felt... so fragile compared to everyone else with their bulging muscles and their boxing matches and everythin'. I wanted to be like that, but I couldn't so I stuck to with what I knew, climbing trees and throwing rocks down at them... you know, til one of them uprooted the tree. Anyhow, um...” He briefly lost his train of thought.

“I think, coming over here, getting a job and everything was the best choice for me. Break away and all that. Then you two showed up, made me question everything again.” He smiled at that, chuckling, “Hell, I lost sleep about it. Then, this relationship happened and I was nervous... I thought that it would come in between work. It took me quite a while to realize that it didn't and I was the one making it like that, because I thought I had to be more serious about it to compensate. That was kind of stupid of me.” Sniper finished with nothing else coming to him for him to keep going.

At the start, Medic had a plan. He let them do as they wished, respect them, and gave them attention when they asked and to not ask for anything in return for he wanted to focus solely on his work, his experiments. If you wanted this relationship so badly, you dummkopf, why can't you balance your own schedule?! He wanted to hit his head against the wall for being so stupid. What was he thinking?! That's not how a relationship works! The overbearing feeling of this whole connection between the three has grown on him, more than he would like to admit. The mental wall he built years ago began teetering. He wanted to, he honestly wanted to, but he continuously felt something holding him back. Pride? That was a possibility.

“We want you to be happy, doc.” The Aussie tepidly took his hand, caressing it. “We want to do what we can to give you that.”

His breathing hitched. His mind screamed for him to speak. That he desired more attention, more compliments, more... kisses. Things they were giving him all along and he had been too stubborn to enjoy it. Verdammit. He was holding himself back for long enough, yet why couldn't he finally let go?

“Love you, doc. Honestly.”

Scout envied him. That sounded so fluid, like the rifleman had said it throughout his life. He should try too, shouldn't he? It could become easier to say if he just practiced. He took a few moments to encourage himself to actually say it. “I... I love you.” Wow, that was way too awkward off the tongue. “Uh, I do. Seriously. I just can't say it sometimes. I guess my brain is still not used to the idea of me dating two dudes. Not used to lying down in a bed with two other dudes either, heheh.” The runner hesitated again, chewing his lower lip, “One thing I forgot to say though, is that... you deserve a lot more than you got right now, not just from us but like the whole stupid team, who can't even thank you. We wanna say sorry that we was like that. Right, Snipes?”

“Definitely.”

The wall was ruthlessly demolished and severely crushed into undecipherable pieces that Medic physically flinched and sat up straight. The two men accompanying him nearly fell out of the bed from shock. Eventually once the moment ran its course, they sat up with him

“Doc?” Scout prompted, “You alright..?”

“Did we say too much?”

They got a head shake out of him but it was unknown for which question he was answering.

Medic felt... he wasn't sure himself. This was entirely new to him. Although there was one familiar thing he did feel. Slowly, he placed his arms on their middles and brought them closer to him. Their warmth pressed against him gave him a sense of comfort, security he didn't think he needed. He liked it, no matter how hard he wanted to deny it. “Ich liebe dich auch... I'm sorry. I've been awful.”

“Yeah, you kind of have.” Scout agreed sheepishly, keeping his gaze away from the Aussie whose glare bored into him.

The marksman trained his attention back to the field medic. He put his arm around his waist. “What happened to what we agreed on? We could have just talked about all of this if you just let us in.”

The doctor shrugged. “I didn't think much on it. I didn't think it was important. I greatly apologize for my... stupidity. I do, honestly, want this to work. I do.”

A smile crept onto his face, “Then we'll talk tomorrow?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“Good. That's good.” Sniper pecked his cheek. “One thing though that I want to ask about. Is there anything you... wanted more of? Have you been holding back on that?”

“Y-yes... I have.” Medic awkwardly replied, avoiding his gaze.

“Spit it out.” Scout's voice cut through the air harshly, “I know you're jealous of our make out sessions.”

If not for the sincere tone, the two were going to pounce on him for that snobbish remark. “... Possibly.”

“You want more kisses then?”

“... Yes.”

“Good. Got plenty.” He said with a yawn.

Smiling a little, the doctor stroked the batter's head to have him melt at his touch. “I think it is best now that we sleep. I, I really do appreciate all that you do for me, especially for tonight.”

Scout could only respond with noises instead of words that could only be assumed as agreement.

Sniper blinked, “You'll let us sleep with you?”

“Of course, you two have grown on me in the most unimaginable way possible.”

"... And that's good right?"

The German pecked the corner of his mouth. "Yes. It's wonderful."

~~~

Medic woke up groggily with two bodies pressed against him. This wasn't a shock, obviously, however he flinched at how close the batter's face was to his and how awkwardly close his hand was to his pelvis region. He knew for sure that the Bostonian was a heavy sleeper; he would not have to worry about waking him up. Without hesitation, he gently moved the runner's limbs off of his person. It was more of the rifleman he was cautious about. He had no idea how his body reacted to movement while unconscious. Thankfully, his back was turned towards the doctor, unlike the batter, so he had no limbs to remove. Should he climb over him? No, absolutely not, that is entirely too awkward and will probably wake him up if he was a light sleeper. Medic will not chance that. Going around him seemed like a better option. Carefully, he eased the covers off and crawled to the edge of the bed to slide off feet first.

He studied the Aussie for a few moments before deducing that he was still asleep. With a sigh of relief, he carried on to do his morning routine.

Before long he stood at his desk, fully dressed and looking over the assorted forms scattered around him. Natural light poured into the infirmary, giving it a rather homely glow. If you ignored faint smell of blood and guts oozing from the fridge next to the surgery table, it could smell homely too by the cinnamon odored candle lit away from his work place.

The doves had been fed and given their morning head pats, so they sat quietly in their cage to let him work in peace. This only lasted a blissful five minutes.

Upon hearing footsteps behind him, he glanced over his shoulder to see a drowsy marksman, rubbing his eyes. A small smile tugged at Medic’s lips as he pressed on with his task. “Guten Morgen, Sniper.”

“Mornin'...” The Aussie mumbled and wrapped his arms around his middle. Almost instinctively, he moved his hand to swat his attempt at affection away before the realization dawned on him and he stopped himself. Pausing to reflect on how to react, he finally accepted the embrace by leaning into it.

“There you go, luv.” 

A chill coursed down the doctor’s spine at his low voice absurdly close to his ear as well as a warm sensation fluttering around in his chest. He quickly cleared his throat while the rifleman snickered at his vain attempts to cover his fluster. Medic made a noise of surprise at the prolonged touch of Sniper’s lips and the brush of his stubble on his neck. Swiftly, he whirled around and glared his lover.

“Do not do that!”

A cheeky grin was fixed on the marksman's countenance. “You sure about that, darl?”

“Yes,” he hissed, quickly covering his neck with his hands, causing the Aussie to laugh. The field medic could be so adorable.

The doctor did not expect him to have Sniper’s lips pressed against his own. They felt wonderful. However, his hesitation to reciprocate lasted longer than he thought and the rifleman pulled back, gazing at him with concern. “I'm sorry, was that not necessary? Did you—mm!”

Medic answered by locking their lips together and wrapping his arms around his neck. After recovering from his surprise, Sniper hurriedly returned the gesture and brought his lover closer. It felt almost natural with the way they synchronized their movements as if they had done this a thousand of times. The rifleman did not want it to end, but eventually their kiss broke and their foreheads met.

The Aussie smiled widely at the field medic that had his eyes closed. He figured this was the first time he had seen his lover this relaxed. His shoulders sagged, his body leaned into him, he had his arms around him, this was nice. Really nice. “I think you're already improving.”

Medic hummed absentmindedly, finally opening his eyes. Sniper fought against his urge to kiss him all over again. As they were standing there in silence, the marksman realized that this was a new record. He had never gotten to hold the field medic for this long before he hurriedly pulled himself away. He reminded himself that the doctor had his arms around him as well. He had no idea how long this would last, so he absorbed as much as he could. Eventually, his gaze drifted onto the doctor's unorganized desk.

“Could you tell me why you have so much paperwork? You never had this much before.”

Surprisingly enough, Medic answered directly, instead of avoiding the question, “Orders for experiments, since black market organs don't match directly out of exotic animals and into my freezer. It's only for this month, though.”

“When do you think you'll get it all done?”

The German mulled over the question, “Possibly three weeks, given the facts that I might be interrupted during that time, then about five weeks.”

The Aussie smirked. “You mean us, luv?”

“Oh, not just you two, everyone really... but mostly you two. So needy.”

A light blush shrouded over his cheeks. “'M not needy. Scoutie on the other hand...”

“Oh yes, him. The only time he isn't as needy is when he's sleepy.”

“Speaking of...How'd you sleep, darl?”

The marksman's hand was stroking at his back, keeping him near. Medic was coming to like this kind of touch. “I slept better than usual, come to think of it.”

“Good. That's good. Did... what we did, did that help?”

“Tremendously. It... nevermind.”

“No, tell me.”

“It's nothing.”

“Not overwhelming, was it?”

“Mein Gott, no! Not at all. It...” He stopped himself again.

“I know you wanna say something, doc, and I'm not gonna let you hide it. We talked about this remember?”

He cupped his long face into his hands, briefly pecking his wonderful lips, “Danke, mein liebling. You two are just... I feel as if I do not deserve any of this. I never thought I would be worthy of such... irreplaceable love and admiration.”

“If you weren't, we wouldn't be here, darl.”

Warmth coursed from his head down to his chest as a new sensation enveloped throughout his person. He felt considerably lighter by his reply. Nonplussed, he sat there. He never felt the need to feel secure. He knew what he was capable of and how to handle difficult situations without the slightest anxiety... However, this sentence alone gave him a new sense of the word security. Hundreds of emotions whirled throughout his being, like leaves in a storm. It felt almost overwhelming, yet in a positively fantastic way.  
It was like he was invincible.

Slowly, he put his head in his hands as a grin overtook his features.

“Doll?” Sniper stared wide eyed, concerned. He put his hands on the doctor’s forearms. “Did I say something wrong?”

Medic puled, unable to hide the shakiness in his voice, “No! Noo, I'm fine... don't mind me...!”

“Are-are you crying?” The Aussie froze where he stood. _Shit_. He really hoped if he was crying, it was out of happiness. Either way, the marksman awkwardly stood there, uncertain of what to do. His teeth grinded against each other.

“Um...?” 

The rifleman winced violently at the boy's thick accent. He whirled around to watch the batter's face changed drastically into worry as he advanced towards them. “Snipes, what the hell did you do?!”

“Scout, honestly I-I just...! I just comforted him! That's all I did!”

His head swiveled back and forth from the Aussie to the German until it stopped onto the latter. He asked, tepidly, “Is, is he happy?”

“I don't... know...?” His words faltered at the sound of a rupture of beatific giggles from the field medic, who had his mouth covered to vainly contain his cackling.

… He was laughing.

Their concerned washed away at the sound of it. It felt like ages since the base ever heard him laugh like this. Soon, it only became little giggles and he spoke, “While your concern is adorably amusing, and it is appreciated, but I am fine.”

“You are?” Scout egged, curiously.

“Of course. I... couldn't be better.” He ran his hand through the runner's hair. “I see you're finally out of bed.”

Even if it was for a moment he was glad to see that this trick still made him melting at his palm. He perked back up, glaring. “I don't get up that late!”

“Of course, liebe.” He mused. “Shall we go to breakfast now? How late is it?”

“Dunno, maybe you should invest in a clock.” Sniper nudged with a sly smirk.

It was adorable to watch the doctor's cheeks flush. “Perhaps, I should.”


End file.
